


prologue: a new starting point

by awkwardspaceturtle



Series: crossing the line [1]
Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: Drabble, Flirting, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Relationship, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-05 19:15:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25610428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/awkwardspaceturtle/pseuds/awkwardspaceturtle
Summary: They know each other, but that's it -- it simply ends there. It bothers him how this small truth is a kind of loneliness all on its own.In which Mako and Iroh meet at a time of peace and finally have time to maybe get to know each other, and Mako allows himself to fully recognize some feelings he may have kept tucked in the fringes of his mind ever since they met years ago.
Relationships: Iroh II/Mako (Avatar)
Series: crossing the line [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1856347
Comments: 18
Kudos: 84





	prologue: a new starting point

**Author's Note:**

> rewatched LoK for the third time, and rejuvenated the makiroh hunger. i've always wanted to write about them, and i think i've finally done something close to the vision i have of them in my head. i'm a slow and easily-distracted worker, but i'd like to stay optimistic about getting everything out in writing. to the now sleeping makiroh nation, here's my first contribution.
> 
> xx

The atmosphere in the entire bar noticeably shifts when he enters, his arrival stoking the embers of the entire room’s curiosity. This curiosity quickly turns into recognition, and before anyone turns this admiration into a verbal greeting, he casts them a courteous nod and a warm smile, conveying his desire to spend the evening in relative peace. His presence so strongly invites attention that even Mako, already halfway through his third glass, looks up from his corner of the bar counter to survey this new comer.

_General Iroh._

Much to Mako’s surprise, the man in question himself seems to have chosen _him_ as his destination. Mako abruptly stands up from the bar stool, the sudden maneuver dizzying him slightly, yet he finds his (albeit awkward) footing nonetheless and is about to put on a salute when the General extends his own hand to steady him.

“At ease, detective,” General Iroh quietly smiles into his ear, and Mako wonders why his legs still feel like giving in so he lets the older man guide him back to the bar stool.

“Mind if I join you?” General Iroh gestures at the empty seat beside him.

“Not if I would just get in the way of you and your date?” Mako ends with a question yet immediately snaps back with a nervous, “I’m sorry. That came out too intrusive.”

The General regards him with an amused half-smile as he takes his seat. “I’m cruising solo tonight.” He steers off the pleasantries shortly to tell the bartender to give him whatever Mako’s having. “Although it _is_ rather pleasant running into you.”

The bartender slides him a glass of what looks like a piece of pristine white cloud with a fizzing bolt of blue lightning inside. They call it the _Spirit’s Kiss_ , but it absolutely has more kick than kiss in it. Mako watches the General as he takes his first sip, strangely intrigued at the movement of his throat as he finishes the drink in one go. Glass empty, he releases a satisfied sigh; Mako in turn feels a new kind of thirst that his current drink will doubtless fail to quench.

“Hm, dynamite,” General Iroh nods approvingly and orders another. He turns back to Mako and casually drops the line, “Do you come here often?”

Mako almost spills the remainder of his drink, which earns him General Iroh’s amused chuckle.

“I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant,” he says as he leans his full weight on the counter. “From Chief Beifong’s stories, I never would have associated the image of you spending an evening at a bar.”

Recovered, Mako returns his easy smile. “And I you, to be quite honest.”

An all-too familiar desire wells up in the pit of his chest, one that he has pushed back down countless times before in favor of more pressing matters, a simple thought that he had repeatedly brushed aside for the unease it brought to his stomach - yet now that he’s not the boy he once was, now that he thinks he has time enough to want to figure it out, and in turn, his own self -- now, he finally allows himself to admit how there’s so much more of the General he wants to learn.

He realizes that they’ve only ever stood in each other’s proximity in the context of battle, or in the company of friends and acquaintances in celebratory gatherings (also usually post-battle). He has never approached the General outside of planning strategies and professional consultation. He has never walked up to him alone, a world of wonder caught in his throat at the mere thought of the General giving him a sliver of his time and undivided attention, even for casual small talk.

 _They know each other_ , but that's it -- it simply ends there. It bothers him how this small truth is a kind of loneliness all on its own.

“Funny how we only ever meet in times of world crisis. Maybe we ought to get to know each other better, General.”

As soon as he let lose the words, his ears start to prickle with heat. However, if that sounded just like a return pick-up line, it doesn’t seem to bother the older man in the slightest. General Iroh is only surprised for a moment, but he quickly recovers with a smile, the suggestion a welcome thought.

“Maybe we can start by calling each other by just our names.” Iroh rests his hand on Mako’s arm. “I guess I’ll start by saying it’s nice to see you again, Mako.”

Mako blushes at the sound of his own name, but he can’t be sure if it’s just the alcohol. “It’s real nice seeing you, too… Would you mind if I at least start by calling you ‘Sir’? This may take me a while to get used to.” He feels rather _sheepish_ \-- and he hasn’t been this way for quite a long time.

“As you like,” Iroh gives his arm a light squeeze before pulling back his hand. “So are you on your own tonight as well?”

“This is going to sound weird,” Mako begins with the drawn-out sigh of someone who is about to drop something that sounds weird, “but I’m only here on the suggestion of the Chief.”

Iroh’s grin tells him that he’s trying real hard to believe him. “Chief Lin Beifong herself authorized you to drink?”

“Technically, no. But she did say I should find a change of routine, drink outside of my private quarters and maybe get my ideas flowing.”

“Ideas?” Iroh rests a cheek on one hand and leans closer to him, intrigued.

“For a list.” Mako fishes out the small notebook he keeps in his chest pocket during investigations. “She asked me to come up with ten things I would like to do but have never had the time nor opportunity to start doing so.”

With the open notebook between them, Iroh leans even closer to inspect the incomplete list. Ever the observer, Mako unconsciously begins to study the curve of his eyes, the length of his lashes. Some things are more amplified upclose: the fragrant mixture of shower gel and gentle aftershave, and another, a saturated heavy intoxicating musk that fills up all of Mako’s senses like an unidentified brand of liquor. Iroh traces the messily scrawled words with his long fingers, almost with reverence and pleasure. He stops short at number four.

  1. Learn how to dance (Chief’s challenge: ballroom dancing)
  2. Climb a mountain without cheating (no bending!)
  3. Fly a plane on my own (ask Asami)
  4. Break the rules (or a rule, at least)



“ _‘Break the rules (or a rule, at least)’_ ?”

Mako bites back a blush. It’s difficult to keep from feeling like a schoolkid whose secret was being found out. “It sounds juvenile, I know. But I meant it to be something more daring, speaking as someone who works for the law.”

“There may be ways you could get creative with that,” Iroh smiles pensively, a hint of mischief tugging at the upturned edges of his lips. There’s a story behind that smile, Mako thinks, and as much as he’s determined to find out what, he’s also a little nervous to begin prying so soon.

“ _‘Do something that only works in movers_ ’ .” Iroh reads the next entry aloud.

“Suggested by Bolin,” Mako supplies the context.

“These are pretty interesting,” Iroh says, fingers now absently making indistinct shapes on the empty spaces that come right after. “I’m pretty curious how this will go and what you’ll do for the rest.”

“That makes two of us,” Mako says as Iroh slides the notebook back to him.

“Maybe I ought to do a list of my own. I could use a bit of interesting on my days off.”

“I heard from the Chief you were staying here for a meeting with President Moon. How long are you staying in Republic City?”

“Not too long I’m afraid,” Iroh sighs almost wistfully into his empty glass. “I’m leaving tomorrow in the afternoon. Now I find myself strangely regretting my short stay -- if only I had known that I was going to run into you -- an _old friend_ \-- I may have pulled a few strings to stay a bit longer.”

 _A sliver of Iroh’s time and undivided attention_ \-- Mako has always known it will make him nervous, but the knowing doesn’t soften the impact of actually experiencing. He brings his glass to his lips for more liquid courage. That gaze, what he would give just to have this exact moment frozen in time so he could see himself trapped for longer in those amber eyes. .

“Let’s make tonight count then,” Mako offers. He’s not sure exactly why he says that, or the full extent of what he means by it. If there is one thing he’s certain of, it’s the inexplicable yet irrevocable fact that he doesn’t mind spending his entire evening just talking with General Iroh.

Sensing Iroh’s gentle surprise at his vaguely-worded suggestion, he searches his brain for some needed context. “Tomorrow’s my day off. I could stay with you as long as you like. Catch up on old times, as friends do.”

Iroh’s expression turns into that of understanding, and for just a fraction of a second, into something else that Mako can’t quite give a name to. Before he can begin to wonder, Iroh throws him one of his most charming smiles, and ever so silently, as if without desire to betray his thoughts to anyone else besides, says, “I would love that.”

Mako, in a word, pauses. If he would take with him just one memory of the night, it would be the strange feeling of being drawn into General Iroh’s eyes, of drowning into those final dredges of whiskey at the bottom of a bottle. He is a lone sailor adrift on a flimsy raft floating on waves and waves of alcohol, and the General is the first island he has seen in days. Mako doesn’t know why he’s thinking this of all things, but had tonight been an enemy’s trap, he would have long been ensnared.

“It feels like it’s been too long since I last saw you, Mako,” Iroh says pensively, his amber eyes dipping down and all over him slowly as he tips his drink over his lips, but it seems that he is savoring something other than his drink. “You’ve grown _a lot_.”

Mako becomes too transfixed on the General’s throat to notice the slight change of inflection; he only notices now how this is the first time he’s seeing the entire expanse of Iroh’s neck right down to the sharp dip of his collarbone. His military uniform obscured a lot of skin, yet his choice in civilian attire left a lot more to examine.

It becomes apparent that Mako isn’t the only scholar finding a subject worthy of studying in the gorgeous General - his senses may have been rendered blunt by liquor, yet years of practiced focus informs him of curious glances thrown at his and his companion’s general direction. He finds bright admiration lingering in the eyes of most; in some lay something far murkier.

“You don’t look like you’ve changed a lot since, Sir,” Mako comments as his eyes automatically scan the width of Iroh’s arms on the bar counter. Big and strong and capable of holding an entire army on his shoulders. He feels like he’s back to eighteen, starstruck at the sight of him at the forefront of battle.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Iroh says with a small chuckle. Mako wonders if there was a way to siphon someone’s voice and turn it into a drink he could take home with him in a bottle.

“But really, look at you.” And Iroh really _does_ take a good look at Mako as he says this - his neck, his biceps, his thighs. “It’s not hard to imagine you having to receive a lot of calls outside of work.”

Needless to say, the last comment throws Mako off. He swallows, throat dry even as he’d already emptied his glass. He cannot tear his eyes away from Iroh’s. He has learned to decipher the different ways people communicate intent with their gazes alone - murder, mischief, lust. He’s used to observing other people which is par for the course in his line of work, but he hasn’t been studied this way by another.

“Almost makes me sorry to have kept you all to myself tonight,” Iroh says, breaking contact to gesture briefly at other people besides them. When his gaze returns, it feels like a challenge.

“I could say the same about you,” Mako throws back. The alcohol in his system causes him to sound a bit.. mischievous? He does feel like teasing the older man for a bit, if not to just get even at being thrown off. “I’ve no idea why a man who has commanded everyone’s attention in this bar came alone to drink here tonight.”

“I beg to differ. I think I’m in very good company.”

They share yet another look, this time a lot longer than the ones that came before. Mako isn’t quite sure of it - hell it even sounds ridiculously conceited now that he’s giving words to this thought in his head - but ever since the moment they found each other in the bar, Iroh’s field of vision seemed to only be limited around Mako’s immediate circumference. His eyes haven’t travelled all that far around him at all. Knowing this, Mako realizes he too has not offered a shred of attention to anyone else besides Iroh, either. This man, and his strong magnetism, has completely blinded Mako to anything besides. That, or Mako thinks the alcohol may be stronger than he had assumed.

Speaking of which, another pair of _Spirit’s Kiss_ materializes between them, and he suddenly wonders when he had ordered another round.

“Don’t worry about it,” Iroh tells him, as if reading his mind. “Drinks are on me tonight.” 


End file.
